The Highs En’Loes
I returned home from work and ran straight to my closet (per the usual) to change out of my work clothes and into my much more dog-hair friendly attire. Moments later, my phone rang. It was my daughter, Gabby. Her voice was shaky as she proceeded to communicate that she wasn’t feeling well and asked if I could come pick her up from work. Without going into details, let’s just say I dropped everything and jumped in my car to drive the 5 minutes to her work. I knew that in just a few short moments I would pull up on the side of the building, as I have dozens of times before, and she would hop into the car and I’d get her right home. Traffic was a little heavy, but less than 7 minutes after she and I had disconnected our previous call, I was pulling into the parking lot of her work. And my phone rang. And it was Gabby again. “Mom,” she began, “when I said I wasn’t feeling well at work (her chest felt tight from heartburn), someone called 911 and the paramedics and firefighters are here. They need you to come inside and sign something that says that you will be driving me and that I do not need to get into an ambulance or go to a hospital.” I paused, for what seemed like an eternity. I could hear the commotion in the background and I knew she was waiting for me to respond. But somehow despite all of the “Amanda’s” that I have pulled over my lifetime, this one seemed the hardest to verbalize. “Gabby, are you sure I have to come inside? Is there anyone else who can sign you out?” Slightly exasperated, I could hear her exhale. “No Mom, they said that whoever is picking me up needs to come in here. Can’t you just come in?” “Well, Gabby,” I started “You see, I don’t have any shoes on so…” Clearly I am on speaker phone at this point because I can hear the medic explain to Gabby that that was no big deal and to just come in anyway. I felt my face flush crimson and could literally hear the sound of the seconds ticking by as I managed to fumble (on speaker phone) the words that I had to say next. “Well, Gabby, I am also not wearing any pants…”
If you’re wondering how this Amanda-ism ended, rest assured that Gabby was fine and that a nice coworker of Gabby’s offered me a towel to wear while inside.
